SHAMELESS, lewis hamilton¹

32

"You make music?"

"I haven't posted anything," Lewis answered her, nodding with a shrug. "But yeah, sometimes."

Mirabella frowned, her eyes narrowing at him. Then she almost carefully said, "I don't mean this as a compliment and don't let out boost your ego, but what don't you do?"

She watched as his eyes narrowed at something in the distance, his eyebrows furrowing like he was deep in thought. Then his gaze returned to her, "Football."

"Hm," she nodded with a small pout. "Guess we balance each other out then."

"You play football?" he asked, almost in wonder.

"Sometimes," she shrugged. "Charity games and stuff. But I used to play when I was younger. On a team, obviously."

"And, like, you're good?"

She raised an eyebrow at his question.

He backtracked quickly, stressing, "No. No. No. Not like that. I just meant like do you just play or are you genuinely good at it?"

She cocked her head to the side, keeping her gaze on him, the slip of sunlight making her amber eyes almost light up like fire, "I've beaten Ronaldo once, in a charity game."

It wasn't a lie. She had played against him one time in a charity game with some of the other drivers, and Ronaldo happened to be playing for the other team. She honestly wasn't sure how she did it, but she did. Sometimes stealing the ball from him, ruining some of his goal chances and actually somehow outsmarting him, which she still didn't understand. He hadn't seemed mad about it either. It was just a fun game. He actually ended up sending her his Manchester United jersey, which she treasured even if she wasn't a Man United fan and lowkey liked Messi more. Like it's Ronaldo. She'd be insane if she didn't treasure it.

Lewis's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his eyes widening slightly, "You're serious?"

She just smiled.

He shook his head, a laugh of disbelief, or wonder maybe, spilling from his lips. It looked like he was about to say something, but ended up holding himself back.

The fact made her frown slightly and couldn't help but wonder what he might have said. She didn't dwell on it though. There wasn't a point in that.

She watched as Lewis turned slightly more towards her, putting his arm on the back of the couch and with the motion ending up a little closer than he just was.

"So, not only are you a fan of cars and a racer, but you like football too?" he wondered and she gave him a little nod, with a confused frown on her face. Then he sighed and said with an amazed look in his eyes and a dreamy voice, leaning his chin in the palm of his hand, "Could you get any more perfect?

He has done many things that have made her heart skyrocket but that really did it. Perfect. Such a strong word. It wasn't something she's heard anyone describe her as. The closest was probably when Crofty had commented on some of her laps and their near perfection. But purely perfect? Never.

"Careful," she uttered softly as she was mentally freaking out. When did he get so close? And when did it get so hot? "Or some might think you like me."

He was staring so intensely into her eyes, like he was trying to find her soul. Her jaw clenched as she felt his fingers find strands of her hair and started playing with them, twirling them around his finger.

His voice was low as he uttered, his dark brown eyes still holding her hostage, "We couldn't have that now, can we?"

Her eyes fluttered as his nose brushed hers and she whispered, "No."